For Every Crime
by Elfaki
Summary: It has taken Korra countless years, until finally she found what she sought so desperately. Now she must finally put a long delayed closure and bestow them the proper punishment for their crimes. Korra, Amon/Noatak, Tarrlok


Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters

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**For Every Crime**

The land was vast and spread for miles and miles, until it reached dark ominous mountains that got lost inside dark grey clouds, the threat of a storm looming in the distance. Short yellow shrubs and sporadic grass grew on the land; a scenery almost unreal, closer to a bleak painting than reality. For the rest of the world it was still fall, but this far north the wind was violently chilling, the cold going past the skin and the muscles and piercing deeply into the bones.

Korra tightened her furs around her, edging Naga to press on. For miles they marched on this almost barren land- so empty of life- the river to her right always pointing her to her quarry.

"_There's a river that flows from the mountains and washes here at the bay. Follow it, go North, deep into the plains and you'll find what you seek." The fisherman had said and Korra had followed the river down to every curve and every turn._

After days she found it; a lonely shed on the foot of the mountain, modest and made of wood, standing all by itself on the rocky shore. There was smoke rising from the chimney, going upwards in a playful dance and then quickly dissolving by the harsh winds. Despite the fatigue she felt she pressed on faster. Emotions washed over her, bundled chaotically together until finally her resolve felt so tremendously strong, it burned.

Korra dismounted Naga, letting the reins fall. "Stay here girl." She ran her gloved fingers over the white fur soothingly. "This won't take long." She took her gloves off, placed them in a pouch on Naga's side and petted her yet again. Eventually Korra began walking towards the shed, her feet felt heavy and every step seemingly harder to take than the previous one, and yet she was filled with such raw determination that nothing could stop her.

Slowly she reached the door and pushed it open; the old hinges resisting to the movement and making protesting sounds as Korra entered the shed, her eyes taking in her surroundings. A humble residence, withered with age, filled with unmatched furniture. A house meant for exile.

She spotted him, his shoulders were hunched and his movements slow, wiping some cups with a raggedy towel. The door thrashed violently and he stopped momentarily, only to continue cleaning the cups as if nothing had happened.

"Avatar..." He acknowledged her, his voice sounding like it used to, only not. It had the same ring to it, but it was broken, the conviction gone and replaced by something indefinable, an old man's voice. "I see the years have been kind to you." He observed as he finally turned to properly look at her.

Korra took in the sight of him. His head was wrapped with a dark cloth that covered most of his head; pinkish flesh was visible on the edges of the fabric. His face was the one she had glimpsed momentarily on those final moments of their fight all those years ago, a face she would never forget; only now it was covered in lines and wrinkles, like dried cracked earth. And his eyes, they weren't frantically watching at the fall of an empire that could have been; they were weary and glazed over, looking at the plains outside, past Korra, past the open door she was still standing in front of. Looking at faraway dreams and times long past.

"I was about to make some tea. Would you like some, Avatar?" He said and it sounded all too familiar, a chill run through her as old memories awoke once more, even if it was far from a threat.

"I haven't been looking for you for twenty-seven years to have some _tea,_ Amon." She said forcefully, an edge to her voice that made him sigh sorrowfully.

"I haven't heard that name in so many years." He said contemplatively, more to himself than her, his bony fingers rubbing at his mouth, at his chin. It both stung and filled him with a pride he had put aside a long time ago, but for now he let it go. "I would prefer Noatak."

Korra nodded at him and finally she took off her furry hood revealing the Warrior's Wolf Tail at the top of her head, the sides shaven like the Warriors from the Southern Water Tribe she grew up with. When he met her, her spirit was that of a warrior's, unyielding, but she was teenage girl to his eyes. Now she looked the part as well, and he thought that maybe they weren't all that different after all. Perhaps in another life, they could have been allies, comrades in arms, even friends. He looked at her lips, dark and full and changed; she was a child back then. Now she's a woman and beneath the heavy furs, he imagined her naked and sweaty, writhing frivolously under him. It was an entertaining thought, but a foolish one as well, and at that moment the air tasted as bitter as ash, so he pushed those thoughts to a place so dark and distant, he would never go back too again.

"Then why are you here Avatar? …To bring me to justice? …To punish me for my crimes?" Noatak said, the underlying regret in his voice almost breaking her heart.

She took a deep breath and let her gaze wander across the old furniture, the fire burning silently in the fireplace, the curtains gently moving with the breeze.

"To put an end to this sad story." She pursed her lips together and Noatak gazed at her, his eyes growing with grave understanding.

In less than a blink her right fist flew and a gust of wind threw the table between them with a loud clatter on the wall. Noatak was fast to react, drawing the water from a nearby jug and twisting it into liquid lashes. Her hands were extended as the air turned to a small sphere and spun before her, dissolving the water to mere droplets.

Noatak drew the water from the atmosphere and it formed into frozen blades, as sharp as his eyes, around his fingers. He started throwing them at her, not all at once. Korra dodged them effectively; almost like a dancer she avoided each of the frozen blades with practiced ease. Subsequently she slammed her left foot on the floor and the stones rose and hit him behind his knees, effectively knocking him to the ground.

He fell, palms outstretched on the cold ground in an effort to support himself, and he wondered when he had become so weak. With a graceful lunge Korra stood before him as Noatak was on his knees, attempting to bloodbend her. But it was futile. Each twist and move of his hands fell on dead ends, like she was nothing but a ghost before him, devoid of all matter. She was faster and stronger and he was an old man in exile, and as he watched her halt before him, steady and confident, as solid as a statue, he realized he had no chance against her. Korra was the Avatar, and he was nothing but the leader of a botched revolution, glories of the past turned to cinders and ash, an old man rendered useless against her, Noatak thought bitterly and hunched.

With a sudden tag at the cloths on his head, he felt them unravel and fall around him; his burnt, scarred skull was revealed to her. He looked at her, and all his past sins rose to the surface to twist his face in a grim, sad smile.

Korra placed her right hand on the top of his head, never being appalled at his marred skin, her thump resting in the middle of his forehead, a touch achingly soft. Her left hand was above his heart, and she felt it beat wildly beneath her palm.

"I'm sorry." He whispered and closed his eyes, and Korra's eyes shone brilliantly with a blinding white light.

Noatak slumped to the ground, his eyes vacant and teary.

He heard her as she exited through the back door, the old moldy floorboards cracking with each step she took.

The sight that gritted her was as far-fetched as snow in the dessert, so far away from the man she once knew and hated, only to pity and forgive him in the end.

He was sitting by the shore on a short stool, a fishing rod clutched calmly in his hands. The furs he wore were a far cry from the expensive garments she remembered him in. But his hair was still long, woven in three ponytails with traditional light blue clasps, that curved and twisted along with wind behind his back. They weren't brown anymore though, but rather a light grey, the color of a cloudy autumn day.

"Did you kill him?" Tarrlok asked.

Korra shook her head negatively, even though his back was turned to her.

"A fate worse than death, then." He concluded, with a melancholy tone in his voice. If Korra could see him then, she would have noticed the pain on his face, the love he had for his brother, as well the relief and hidden well beneath the surface the somewhat twisted joy.

"You have come for me as well." He said, more of a statement and less than a question from what he intended it to be, but still a tint of slight disbelief in his voice.

"Yes."

He turned and looked at her, that girl, because in his eyes she would always be just a girl, who was so much like a hurricane. And she was a force of nature still, he noticed somewhat content. He did not move as she approached him, the all familiar confidence still in her stride. He smiled in realization and closed his eyes in acceptance, in long delayed clarity.

Korra came before him then, but unlike she did with Noatak, she didn't place her hand on the top of his head, nor did her thump touch the middle of his disfigured forehead.

The end

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The ending is ambiguous and open for interpretation, so it's up to you. My main focus was to present the differences between Noatak and Tarrlok based on the final scene (Noatak wanting to start again and Tarrlok realizing that it's impossible and accepted that it must stop ect) so hopefully I achieved that. Please Review and thank you for reading.


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